


While The Firelight Danced

by mintcloud (roseandheather)



Series: Star Trek: Providence [2]
Category: Inspector Lynley - All Media Types, Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV), Star Trek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandheather/pseuds/mintcloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outtake from "And All The Stars Burned Bright" - the wedding night we didn't see. Shameless fluff, and the barest hint of submission...</p>
            </blockquote>





	While The Firelight Danced

“We did it.” He was staring at her in wonder, like he'd never seen her before. “My God, Barbara, we're _married.”_

She fell on the sofa-bed next to him and laughed, so pure and clear and ringing with joy it sent shivers up his spine. “Yes, darling. Yes, we are. And God, it feels good!”

“It's amazing,” he breathed, still gazing at her in rapture. She seemed to glow with a new radiance, every strand of her hair on fire and a fierce joy in her eyes that took his breath away. “Everything's changed. I didn't know it would make this much difference. I didn't know it could. Oh, my Barbara!”

“I love this,” she sighed, leaning in to touch and caress. She couldn't seem to keep her hands off him. She needed the feel of his skin, warm and glowing and alive, under her hands, as she tried so hard to catch her breath. “I love you. I love being yours. Say it. Please, darling, you know what I want. Say it...”

“Mrs Lynley,” he breathed, and her entire body shuddered. “Mrs Lynley, _Mrs Lynley...”_

“Yes,” she whispered, hot and low in the space between them, “yes, _yes.”_ She'd never expected to feel this way, hearing those words. “Outdated” and “patriarchal” were the kindest words she'd used, when she giggled with her girlfriends at the Academy on one of the rare evenings she wasn't studying. She was nobody's but her own, and yet... God, the thrill of it, knowing she was his! Her whole body sang with loving him, and suddenly she rolled over to nip his lower lip and straddle him in one fluid motion.

“Now,” she groaned, rocking her hips against his. “I need you to fuck me, right now.” Everything seemed new, new and glorious and so much more intense, as if they'd left the physical world behind, and she _needed_ him with a fierce, hungry ache that left her gasping. “Please, Tommy, I...”

“Yes,” he whispered, and rolled her onto her back. She had her clothes off so fast, she could have sworn it was magic, because she didn't remember stopping to do it – and then he was naked too and she was spreading her legs wide and he was _in_ her, hot and hard and glorious, and she let out a loud cry she just couldn't hold back. Here, like this, was her favorite position, as she let him cover her with his own body. As always, with him, she didn't have to be strong. She could be weak, and just a little selfish – and some nights it was his turn to be weak, and hers to stroke and soothe, but now... now, she was his, and she was safe, and she _belonged._

He was rough with her, hands gripping just a little too hard, the slam of his hips just a little too wild, and she loved that, too – loved that he trusted she could take it, that she wanted it, and loved that she could snap that famous Lynley reserve with something that was anything but anger. Even in his most furious rages he maintained his distance, but she... she crumbled all his walls to rubble, broke them down until he had nothing left to hide behind, and the power that surged through her every time she did was nothing short of exquisite. To the world he was an officer and a gentleman – she and she alone could unleash the passion he chained so ruthlessly, and God, who needed command when they could have this?? _This_ was power.

It made her feel invincible.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and gasped all over again as the full truth of Thomas Lynley was laid bare before her.

As she always did, she shed a few tears at the enormity of his trust. But then, it wasn't as though she trusted him with anything less.

“Barbara,” he said as though he was addicted to her, and bit her lip so hard he drew blood.

She let out a strangled cry and convulsed around him as he shuddered above her, coming with his hand in her hair and his mouth on hers in a blaze of pleasure so fierce it almost hurt, and then she knew nothing else.

When she came to some minutes later, he was looking at her like he still, after all this time, couldn't believe he had her.

“I love you, Barbara,” he said, as her eyes fluttered open, and kissed the words into her skin, apology and adoration all at once. The firelight lit his dark eyes and danced over the rugged planes of his face, and her heart contracted painfully in her chest as she reached up and kissed him with everything in her, her hand shaking against his cheek, telling him with her kiss what she still couldn't find the words to say, even now – that he was her only truth, her shining star, her heart and her home.

He nodded and murmured against her mouth, whispering nonsense into the little air between them, and she knew he felt it too, that kind of breathtaking union she never had been able to describe.

“I love you too,” she whispered at last, and they curled together, the fire still burning.

 _Mrs Lynley._

It meant the right to stand by his side forever, to be the wind beneath his wings, to be the only one behind the walls. It meant faith and trust and love, and never having to be lonely again. A simple ceremony shouldn't have made a difference – God, they'd been everything to each other since that first heated kiss, desperate and yearning because they never thought they'd have anything else. But it  _did_ change everything. Everything and nothing.

So simple. So easy. Not really a difference at all, and yet everything had changed.

They had pledged themselves to each other years ago, felt Destiny bind them as she had done before and would again. But this felt like their own world blessing them – not some mystic force that bound a thousand million realities, but their own reality, this existence, this time, this life, consecrating a universal constant so it became theirs and only theirs.

They bound their souls long ago, on that first, giddy night when they learned each other with all of time stretching before them. Now they bound their lives, and the simplicity of it was overwhelming. This was where they had been headed all this time – not the mysterious essence of them that crossed universes, but just the two of them, real and flawed and perfect for each other, shaped by their separate history, by the pain they now shared and the life they had begun to build.

 _Mrs Lynley._

Oh, yes. It was  _perfect._

In the dark while the firelight danced, she curled into her husband and slept, and she dreamed of the stars and of their future.


End file.
